


Alone Together

by AutumnLily



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnLily/pseuds/AutumnLily
Summary: Hermione and Draco have been using Moaning Myrtle's bathroom as an escape. As their rendezvous increase they find a peace within each others presence... until Halloween arrives. Rising lusts and ravenous urges sheds light on who each of them really are beneath the surface.





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gryff_inTheGame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryff_inTheGame/gifts), [LadyKenz347](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/gifts).



> Thank you to Gryff_inTheGame and LadyKenz347 for their helpful notes and encouragement.
> 
> Halloween is my favourite holiday, but this fic is more about the two characters than the holiday. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

Draco’s voice echoed loudly through the dungeon corridor as Hermione fell to the stone floor beneath him.

“I won’t let you!”

“Draco, stop!” She pleaded as he wrapped his fingers around her wrists, knees digging into her thighs, pinning her down as he hovered above her. “You need to let me go!”

“How?” His voice was becoming wild. Draco had passed the point of return and had a frenzy within. He trembled as he stared down at her, the hiss escaping his strained lips. “How am I supposed to let you go?” His hand slammed down on the stone next to her face, fingers winding through her messy hair, a claiming, an ownership.

Draco leaned in and pushed his mouth to hers. Hermione whimpered and tried to pull back, his kiss crushing her skull into the cold floor as he ground his lips against her teeth.

“I want you,” He growled. “And I know you want me.”

“We can’t. You can’t! Draco!” She thrust her hips up attempting to fling him off, but he met her hips with his and pinioned her flat, rubbing himself against her skirt.

“You’re a filthy fucking mudblood and you need to know your place!” His eyes were brimming with tears. She knew this was his attempt at regaining the control he felt he had lost. “If you won’t give yourself to me, after all this time, then I’ll take you.”

 

***

 

Three weeks ago, he had discovered her crying in Moaning Myrtles bathroom. He, too, had red eyes and sunken cheeks.

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Malfoy, you shouldn’t be in here.”

“You don’t sound like your pushy know-it-all self today, Granger. Tell me again with more conviction and maybe I’ll go. Or, maybe, I’ll settle in. I like watching mudbloods cry.”

Hermione sighed. “Suit yourself.”

He settled against the wall and slid down, looking up at her as she stalked by towards the taps. She turned one on waiting for the water to come so she could rinse her face.

“Damnit!” She murmured, realising she’d situated herself at the entrance to the chamber.

"Aguamenti" She looked over her shoulder in the mirror to see his wand pointed at the serpentine labelled tap. Immediately water began gushing from the faucet.

Hermione smiled and washed her face, watching Draco in the mirror as she did.

He was sat against the wall, knees against his chest, hands hanging limply over them. His head down, eyes half closed as they wandered up her legs. She wondered if he would see up her cloak. She’d not been watched by boys like this before.

Objectified.

Draco was looking at her like one would inspect an expensive item before purchase. Scanning for defects or imperfections, intensely grazing her curves with the appreciation of an auctioneer. She giggled, startling them both.

“You find me funny, Granger?”

“I find your behavior funny, Malfoy. You claim to hate me and my kind, yet you can appreciate the fact that I am, although full of dirty blood, a healthy specimen.”

“Mudblood trading was not that uncommon until recently, Granger. If one knows where to go, one can still purchase a mudblood or two… for recreational purposes, only, never marriage. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, I understand, Malfoy, purebloods only marry their cousins.”

“Only the hot ones.” He smirked.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yet your body responds to my gaze.”

Hermione blushed. “You know nothing. Certainly not about girls.”

“You’re not a girl though, are you, Granger? I can smell your desire from here. You may still think of yourself as young and innocent, but your body deceives you.”

Hermione’s brow creased as a blood-soaked memory swept through her mind, the face above hers as she choked and sputtered for breath.

“You have no idea what happened to my innocence.” Hermione’s voice came out gravelly, deep and so serious that Malfoy was visibly shocked. She turned and slammed the door behind her as she left.

 

***

 

They had met in the bathroom a few times a week since then, each needing to escape their respective pressures and the cramped confines of their common rooms where eyes lingered on their every move, and no conversation went unheard.

Malfoy left her innocence alone, and Hermione never once reminded him that it had been misplaced.

The third time they bumped into one another in the bathroom it was almost a relief for her. She slid down the wall next to him. She was beginning to enjoy his quiet, calm presence. Draco would mumble softly about being tired, from studying, from expectations, from ruling the Slytherins, from quidditch, from his mother’s constant worried owls. Hermione would nod, occasionally grunting when she agreed with him, neither really saying much more than they both already knew.

They both felt pressure to do what was expected of them, even if those expectations were on opposite sides of the line drawn down the middle of the Wizarding World.

"This is... "Draco's voice trailed off. 

Hermione could tell Draco was struggling for the right word. 

"Nice?" She offered.

"I guess. I can just 'be' here."

"You can 'be' anywhere you want, Malfoy, if you let go of your opulent self grandeur and your preconceived notions and generational biases."

Malfoy lapsed into silence. They sat for a few more moments before he stood and wandered off.

"Perhaps, Granger. One day."

 

***

 

“Your tougher than I thought, mudblood.” Malfoy said unexpectedly to her one afternoon.

“I’m tougher than you’ll ever know, Nazi Malfoy.”

“Is that a muggle insult?”

Hermione laughed.

“I don’t like you. I like sitting here with you, though. I can be real with you. No judgement. No pressure.”

“I need nothing from you, Malfoy. I don’t care if you sit with me. Just make sure we have some silence – that’s why we both come here.”

 “To be alone.” They said at the same time.

“… together.” Draco finished.

He was next to her. So close to her she could feel vibrations in their air between them.

Hermione picked at the fluff on her socks. Draco’s heat next to her was calming. She had started missing him when she was in the common room, students ramping up and blowing off steam by practicing illegal spells and ignoring her warnings. She found herself scanning the great hall for a glimpse of him at meals. Every time she saw him in a corridor or in class she felt her body doing that… thing… that he had mentioned the first time they’d met in the bathroom.

The tingle.

The shiver.

The scent.

She closed her legs and flex her thigh muscles, activating the internal muscles, the ones she used when trying not to wet herself when she’d had too much pumpkin juice. She looked at him sideways through half-shut eyes. It made her feel nice, but also bothered. She felt hot. She was always hot when Draco was around. Even in the cold bathroom. He set her body on fire.

 

***

She lay awake in bed that night.

She knew what was happening. She couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Not Ginny, not Harry, definitely not Ron. So she would sit with the feeling and enjoy it. She wrote to Krum occasionally. He’d started this, this feeling. It was right she should make him aware that it was now happening, that her body was changing. She thought he might enjoy reading her detailed bodily descriptions, her watering mouth, the sheen to her hair, how her blood would thunder through her veins. She was excited to see him this summer. He had invited her to his family castle, to meet his sister Lucy, and to learn his native tongue. She couldn’t wait to learn more than that from him. She was thirsty. Her hands wandered down beneath her night gown and she fell asleep to happy thoughts, her body caught between Krum and Malfoy.

 

***

The next day when she entered the bathroom Hermione kept her eyes forwards, not daring to look at Draco.

It was dangerous.

Almost as though he could feel her forcing herself to not look at her he spoke.

“I can feel you ignoring me.”

“You can’t feel something that is not happening.”

“So, you’re not ignoring me?”

“Ignorance is not being aware of something. You’re obviously very much here.”

“I was wondering if you’d noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“Me.” He said smugly.

“Good bye, Malfoy.”

She turned and left as he murmured behind her.

“I’d pay for you, you know. If I found you at a mudblood auction. I’d take you home, maybe pretend you were my cousin.”

She smiled as she made her way back to the library.

 

***

 

Later that night as she was packing her books she felt the thing again. The dizziness and shallow breathing, the tingle between her legs, her heart rate increasing. Need. Desire. She haphazardly threw her books into her bag and ran to the second-floor bathrooms. She tuned on the tap and splashed her face, trying to cool herself off.

“You alright, Granger?”

She span. She hadn’t noticed him behind her.

“Why are you always here, Malfoy?” She exclaimed.

“It’s Halloween, the Slytherin common room is currently an ocean of drunk students and puddles of fire-whiskey both pre and post ingestion.”

Her nose crinkled up.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She noticed the books around him, the half-eaten apple in his hand, the drop of apple juice on his bottom lip, slowly, slowly, dripping to his pointed chin. His long and slender his neck looked, how his fair hair fell across his shoulders, longer than it had been in their younger years, long, messy and soft, curling slightly around his adam’s apple.

“Hungry, Granger?” He extended his arm offering her the apple and she felt a pull in her stomach. She was ravenous. She finished the apple in three bites, the juice shining on her pink lips.

She knelt in front of him, one knee on the open pages of his arithmancy book, the other knee knocking his ink well over. He looked down and opened his mouth to complain, but his voice was covered by her open mouth suddenly between his parted lips. Hermione’s tongue began running along his teeth, pushing against his own tongue, slurping at his sweet, apply saliva. She moaned as she pressed her breasts against his chest, heaving and breathing deeply as she pulled back for oxygen. He came forwards not wanting her to second guess her actions, and he pushed her onto her back, this time he was on top,  sliding his pelvis against her.

Hermione reached up grabbing handfuls of his hair forcing his face down to meet her. She gyrated against him, feeling her hunger growing, her stomach empty and floating, her chest the new home for a 100-man marching band as she bit him and clawed at him, rubbed him. Her hands didn’t know where they wanted to be for they wanted to be everywhere, to touch everything, to grab and push and flick and pinch and hold and caress.

She wanted to tear into him.

She found her strength, clamping her legs around his midriff and rolled them over, her cloak button catching on a stone. The fabric shred exposing a lightweight plum coloured singlet with a training bra beneath her cloak, the one she wore on laundry day. It no longer fit but she didn’t care, she didn’t need much support sitting at a desk all day.

Draco’s hands made their way up, fingers digging into her hips as he positioned her against himself, propping himself up on his elbows, rubbing his hips up between her spread legs. He could feel the heat emanating from under the flowy skirt of her cloak - he wanted to touch her skin, he wanted to get inside her, he wanted to feel something, he’d wanted to feel for so long, and now he was feeling ecstasy underneath this mudblood he’d been taught to hate but had grown to enjoy.

Hermione came down towards him, her breasts falling free from the training bra, nipples straining against the thin plum fabric, reminding Draco of red apples. He bit them as they came towards his face and she cried out in delight before forcing his mouth open with her fingers, pulling him away from her chest and smacking him back down against the stone. She inhaled his hair, his mouth, his neck, she kissed him, licked him, and clawed at him, not even caring when the first droplet of blood appeared.

He moaned as he felt his skin split, he knew what was happening, blood magic was incredible between pure bloods and those with high powers, but he’d never heard of blood bonds between mudbloods and pure bloods, and he wanted to feel the power that he had read about. Draco felt it was right, it was more than right, it was perfect, it was fate, she was beautiful and smart and he deserved to take her for what he wanted - it was his right as the superior, as the male, as the pure blood, as a Malfoy, to have whatever he wanted…

He wanted her.

He split the skin beneath her right ear and wrapped his fingers through her hair forcing her to face the side and brought her down to rub their wounds together, but he felt defiance. Hermione was fighting him, her face coming forwards, her mouth open, her tongue out. HE felt a pleasurable pain as Hermione began lapping at his blood, moaning, and he had never felt anything so sweet as his pure perfect blood on the lips of a mudblood. It felt like the sweetest revenge he could have ever imagined against his father and the Dark Lord, and all the masked men forcing him to do their bidding; it reminded him of his mother’s words before he had taken the Dark Mark, “Your heart will always guide you, my child.” It reminded him of Snape’s face whenever Potter’s mother was brought up in conversation in comparison to Granger; the mud-blood with the courage and talent of a pure-blood. His body was writhing beneath her and he was so near the golden edge when it was ripped away, and he was empty, and he was cold and she – was gone.

Hermione’s footsteps thundered across the corridor as she leapt the last two steps, she could hear him behind her, she continued running, she couldn’t believe what she had just started. What she wanted to finish. How badly she needed to feel him against her again, how much she – NO! She had to stop.

“Granger!” He was gaining on her.

“No, no, no, no, Malfoy, leave me alone!” She hurtled past the kitchen painting of fruit and threw herself into a small stairwell, feet pounding as she plumped the depth of the castle, the air getting colder as she pushed forwards.

“I’m going back to the common rooms!” She whimpered as she felt him gaining momentum behind her, his body warmth heating up the cold air, she could hear his breathing and his heart, feel him quiver with anticipation as he caught sight of her… the air was wavering between them. She slowed and turned to face him.

“I’m stopping this.” She took in a deep breath and looked him in the eye, hoping that collecting her thoughts and telling him with a coldness would deter him.

Draco’s voice echoed loudly through the dungeon corridor as Hermione fell to the stone floor beneath him.

“I won’t let you!”

“Draco, stop!” She pleaded as he wrapped his fingers around her wrists, knees digging into her thighs, pinning her down as he hovered above her. “You need to let me go!”

“How?” His voice was becoming wild. Draco had passed the point of return and had a frenzy within. He trembled as he started down at her, the hiss escaping his strained lips. “How am I supposed to let you go?” His hand slammed down on the stone next to her face, fingers winding through her messy hair, a claiming, an ownership.

He leaned in and pushed his mouth to hers, she whimpered and tried to pull back, her skull pushing into the cold floor as he ground his lips against her teeth.

“I want you,” He growled. “And I know you want me.”

“We can’t. You can’t! Draco!” She thrust her hips up attempting to fling him off, but he met her hips with his and pinioned her flat, rubbing himself against her skirt.

“You’re a filthy fucking mudblood and you need to know your place!” His eyes were brimming with tears. She knew this was his attempt at regaining the control he felt he had lost. “If you won’t give yourself to me, after all this time, then I’ll take you.”

 “I want you.” He growled.

He pushed her down and her head smacked on the stones. She looked up at him, dazed. He was tearing the singlet clean off, her breasts were exposed, he was hitching up his cloak and unbuttoning his trousers, one hand sliding between her legs. She felt so good, so, so good, she could lay there and let him, she wanted him to.

Draco knew how much she desired him as his fingers slid across her wet slit, spreading her escaping juices on the top of his dripping cock, the clear goop falling from his cock and landing on her pushed aside panties.

She sucked her breath in and he came closer, felt him against her opening, hovering on the collar of her cave as she wriggled and whimpered.

“No!” She screamed again. She could feel desire growing, and her resistance was edging him on. Hermione knew he knew it was happening, he was entering her passage, the tip was inside. She was having trouble focusing, the pleasure and the hunger were pulling her mind from her pre-frontal cortex down to her limbic system. Her animalistic need was growing and then she smelt him, his saltiness, his sweat, his blood. The dizziness clouded her head and she roared.

With super-human strength Hermione flipped Draco off. He landed two feet away, pants around his ankles. She stood, her torn clothing falling from her body, and walked with grace and ease in her naked glory to where he sat, slumped and injured. One hand extended to his neck and she brought him to his feet, pulling up further so he was held by his throat against the wall, feet dangling.

His head fell to the side as she used the nail of her other pinky finger to elongate the cut in his neck. She brought his blood to her mouth and let him drop to the floor. She sat on his lap, his length sliding inside with ease as she began rocking atop him, sucking at his throat, emptying his vessels, feeling his arteries fluttering and opening. She continued sucking and fucking until he was grey and anaemic, his cock deflating inside her as she continued drawing his blood out. She cried out in anguish as she realised he was now too soft for her to ride to completion. She drained the last bit of him out and stood, looking down on his limp body with disgust before seeing the flicker in his eyes.

“Oh no!” She felt the panic rise.

What had Krum said when he’d turned her?

“It is the blood transfer that does it. You had mine by accident, I want to see if my sister was telling me the truth. You are noble and intelligent, your heart is pure, you will do well to be preserved forever as Vampyre.”

And then he bitten into her and drained her. She had awoken in his arms, his hands tenderly caressing her face, he was looking at her like an experiment, and she preened under his watchful eyes.

He had promised her the change would not happen until she was a woman… but, Draco had scented her womanhood… she had developed faster than she or Krum had anticipated… the need, the thirst, it hadn’t been hormones or puberty or lust. It had been hunger.

Draco was stirring.

His already pale face now had a hint of silver to the skin, his hair looked softer, his lips had more colour now than when he had been human.

Hermione fell to her knees. If she had sired him she did not want him to awaken cold and alone. She cradled his head and brought his lips to her wrist ready to feed him, as Krum had done for her.

“Granger…” he murmured. “Why is your filthy blood dripping into my mouth?” He coughed and involuntarily began sucking at her gash.

She smiled down at his wide eyes.

“My filthy blood has given you life, Malfoy.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It may have needed one more clean up, but honestly, I am exhausted and don't have time before the fest ends to perfect it. I really hope you all just enjoyed the one-shot ride and go away with a smirk at the idea of Draco Malfoy being the tethered bitch of Hermione Granger for all of eternity. 
> 
> It's definitely a happy thought for me.
> 
> I have three WIP's (and I am the worst at updates...) but I may write a few more one-shots featuring Sire Hermione. I havn't read many. 
> 
> Bye <3 <3 <3


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